


The Ripper-Duck

by Illidria



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Challenge Accepted!, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Olivier is a duck, and miles is a serial killer, nothing graphic, only crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-03-24 19:39:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13818069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illidria/pseuds/Illidria
Summary: The one in which Miles is a serial-killer and Olivier is a duck....yeah, don't ask.





	1. A rip in canon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NorthernWall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthernWall/gifts).



> CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!
> 
> _I'm at least 97% sure I could send in a prompt that says "Miles is a serial killer and Olivier has been turned into a duck" and you'd still turn out the most amazing fic._
> 
> You brought this one onto yourself NortherWall :D

He came by at every third sunrise.

Threw them bread mostly, sometimes brought them worms from the stinking shop outside of the park. Sometimes just sat there, looking at the others and her swim in the water, dive into the lake. Almost stared at her when she flapped her wings, shooing away her brother. It set her instincts to flee alight, but for him she ignored the pull on her feet.

They all quacked at her, warned her to stay away from the featherless man, but she'd waddled near him anyway.

Had ruffled her feathers in front of his bespectacled gaze, the dark lenses hiding eyes, so unlike her own. Her daring shows paid off in the form of food and praise, her position as new leader of the paddling soon cemented.

The only thing always weird the smell of blood clinging to him, ill-fitting when she considered his usually calm movements, slow and thoughtful. He did not behave like a predator at all, seemed to be no danger. Cooed when her sisters passed him with their ducklings, long-since having stopped attacking him.

She quacked at him, standing only two feet away.

"What do you want to tell me, huh?"

He lacked a bill, was lacking feathers too, though the few he had were a pleasant white colour. His wings utterly featherless though, meaning he was not fit to fly.

Sometimes she still heard her father, the others, squabbling that she should look at drakes more than at him. Not caring at all, always glad for their visitor, the extra food.

Quacked at him again, the sound utterly meaningless, but he made that strange thing with his not-bill again, that had more white show.

"No matter what I do, you're always there, aren't you?"

Looked at her, in the way that had her muscles tense. Pushed the dark lenses down, his eyes being as red as the blood he always smelled off.

She ruffled her feathers.

* * *

When the grass rustled close to their pond, she pulled her head from underneath her wing.

It was dark out, the little wooden hut they slept under calm, all the others still fast asleep. Rose carefully at that, left the group and went to look. She'd not risk her paddling coming to harm, just because she was too lazy to get up in the middle of the night after all. Stood as tall as she could against the sparse light of the moon, on the lookout for whatever had made that sound.

Had it been a strong gust of wind? A racoon? Maybe that pesky black dog? It probably was that pesky black dog!

She pressed her bill closely together, waddling in the direction of the noise, ready to pick at the nightly intruder. The black dog had played with another some time ago, they'd hunted her littlest sister around the lake. She'd pecked at them since, the women owning them seeming to be on her side, telling the dogs that they deserved it for not obeying her. It had been her white-feathered friend then too, who'd caught the dogs and handed them back to the featherless woman.

The noise sounding again, a multi-layered rustling of grass and what the featherless-ones wore. Waddled towards it.

Stopped when she saw him, her favourite one, dragging something through the grass. It was big and seemed to be heavy, he was making noises, said words in a tone that he'd never used towards her or the others. Whatever that was he had with him smelling of blood and fear, though this seemed to vanish when it rippled the surface of the other tiny pond next to hers. The thing swimming on the surface for a moment, almost seeming like another, oversized, duck, before it started to sink.

He turned then, when everything was out of sight, the water smooth again, noticing her for the first time and flashing her the hidden white.

"Hey! Well, you probably wondered what the commotion was about, huh?"

Crouched, his hands sitting loosely on his knees, looking at her. She inched closer.

He seemed to wear darker colours than by day, though that could be a trick of the missing light, but he seemed still as calm and friendly. His voice still so very warm.

"You see, I had to get rid of this one, the place at my home was getting scarce. But I did not drop him in your pond, so we're good, right?"

Quacked at his smile, as quietly as she could, getting closer and closer to him. It was an odd feeling that he thought of her like that, was so considerate.

"You know, I always wondered why one of your feathers sticks up like that. Almost like a curl."

Was directly in front of him now and rustled her feathers proudly.

And just like that, his hand touched her.

She'd never been touched before, always escaped when people tried to put their weirdly formed wings to hers. It felt wrong when they reached for her, like they were trying to bend her to their will. It didn’t feel like that with him.

"I have a pond at home, it’s nice and secluded there. I could bring you and your family food every day."

Noticed the sound of steps long before he did, the vibrations of people running echoing in her feet. Quacked at him, the sound not mistakable. The white-feathered one seemingly having understood, fingers dancing through her feathers one last time, before he ran away hurriedly.

Long before the flashlights danced over the still surface of the pond.

* * *

He still came every third day and brought them all food.

Protected them from dogs, and rude featherless-ones. Repaired their hut when it cracked during a storm. Politely told the featherless-ones with the hats, what he saw when he sat with them. She'd caught the words “suspicious persons” and “murder”, though did not know what any of it meant.

Instead settling on waiting for the next time he came by at night, which was often enough, when he dropped something into the pond next to theirs.

Almost giddy.


	2. A rip in my soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why do you make me do this?!

_Relocation of local wildlife and endangered species by order of the mayor._

It was one of the longest things she’d heard the humans say without taking a breath in between _and_ repeat like their life depended on it, like their actions were not influenced by the wind and the land beneath their feet.

They liked words, almost all of them did, she knew that. Had observed them talking early on, people sitting by the pond she lived in with her family, exchanging words from sunrise to sunset, though by the way they moved and sounded none of them imbued with meaning. The humans just parted after talking, not forming families, flocks or sharing territory.

 _Or_ , they stood around on hers.

“The remodelling-plan for this park does not contain a new pond I’ve noticed, Mayor Bradley?”

Olivier did not understand their human squabbling, as they were speaking too quietly, too rushed. But her gut-instinct told her that something was going on, something that had to do with the long thing the humans always said.

The men standing close to her home tall, one of them with black hair and a small beard, the other black-haired too, but beardless.

“Mustang, with the body they’ve found in the second pond and the public outcry and fear, I just don’t want there to be a reminder of what happened.”

She waddled through the space between their legs, not happy with how close they were to her home, how difficult it had been to get her sisters onto the water, to keep them from getting too close to all the weird humans suddenly coming and looking at them. The park had turned to somewhat of an attraction it seemed, like it offered lots of resources.

Yet, they all only ever stood around the second pond, the shallow one, which she knew was devoid of anything but murky water.

“Have you heard Mayor, that there is a citizen willing to take the ducks in? My assistant is examining the place as we speak, together with an expert.”,

Olivier perked up, tried to listen in and understand their words, wondering when Miles would come again, would tell her what the other humans said. She could understand _him_ so much better.

“Mr. Miles, yes. Scholar of some sort, he led the public protest against the remodelling of the park the last time, when the last mayor wanted a shopping mall to be build here. He’s got a townhouse at the outskirts of the city, build by his grandfather. Lovely place, with a big garden.”

The other man nodded, sounding like all the words the other said did not interest him much, just like most humans.

“I’m sure that Miss Hawkeye will find things at Mr. Miles house to be in the best possible condition. This way we could ensure not angering those set on keeping the animals safe and would be able to scratch the back-up plan too. I’d never been happy with the thought of culling the ducks after all.”

The bearded one clapped the severely under-feathered one on the shoulder, smiling.

“Neither would I have been, honestly. Though what are a few ducks in the face of the future, right Mustang?”

And with that they left, half the words they’d said not of the kind she understood, yet a shiver running through her, dread like when she felt the fox to be too close for comfort.

Waddled back to her family, swam out onto the lake, counted her siblings, looked where her parents were sitting. Got in the water then too, observing the humans, talking and pointing and living in total disregard of their existence.

Observed them for a while, not caring for the pigtailed girl pointing at her, but much more for the white dog the child had with her, big enough to constitute being chased away when getting closer. Watched the two men from before making their rounds again several hours later, Miles in tow, which had the hope grow within her that she’d soon know why so many people were walking through their home.

And just like that, her family herded into their nest by her, Miles kneeled at the edge of the pond after the sun went down, talking to her, saying things she did not know the meaning of mostly. Yet one thing she understood.

“You remember that pond in my garden I talked about? The one that could house you and your family so comfortably, away from prying eyes? It will become your new home.”

Olivier quacked as an answer.

* * *

 

Indignant it was what the people had done to her and her family.

Thick things they’d put over their hands, biting the normally fleshy fingers not as effective as usual. Her siblings quacking in distress, while she was almost honking, hissing, trying to snap and bite what she could. Was throwing her body around when still in human hands and did not cease her struggle when they put her in a box made of wood.

The material did not budge against her unrelenting attacks and only did she stop attacking the contraption when her mother in the box next to hers sounded of nervousness and fear. Set to calming her family then, to withstand the queasy feeling in her stomach the rumbling thing they were in evoked inside of her.

Started her show of aggression and discontent again immediately though, when she felt the boxes being moved, heard the cries of her youngest sibling, of Catherine, to be let go.

“This one’s extremely aggressive Mr. Miles, be careful!”

His voice was almost enough to rid her of the intense and instinctual fear she felt.

The box she was in opened, sun shining in the sky and confirming that the morning had dawned even though they’d been ripped from their slumber by clumsy hands, forced into dark boxes.

His face leaning in close, unperturbed by her sounds of anger and dissatisfaction, even though she let his gloveless hands hold and lift her. Did not bite him, only looked around, hissing at the bystanders and feeling contempt at their open mouths.

This one was a human different from them, something they seemingly could not comprehend.

The second her webbed feet came to rest on grass, she drove the man setting little Catherine down away.

“That one’s feisty.”

Miles voice gentle, proud.

“She’s the leader.”

And just like that, her family was unboxed in a strange new yard, sunny and full of grass, trees and bushes. A pond, bigger than the one they’d inhabited before, with a wooden house painted blue and a riverbank formed into a slope for them, much more gently than nature would have.

Scared the other humans away with mighty flaps of her wings, herded her family towards the water and inspected her new home.

It was good, ripe with food and everything else they needed, the fence she walked alongside of when only Miles was left sturdy. Would not keep them safe from all creatures, but the bigger ones. And when night fell, her family having fallen into a fitful slumber, she waddled towards Miles, still standing on a step made of stone, in front of the biggest house she’d ever seen.

Considered him in the moonlight, a smell wafting off him she’d smelled before, though while it set her instincts alight, the red dripping from his fingers releasing wave after wave of it, his smile calmed her. His voice, too.

“See, a good home this is, isn’t it?”

He was one of the few humans, that could _ever_ be right.


	3. The last rip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last part, for you crazy people ;)
> 
> I demand an explanation why you guys liked this so much?! I don't get it, really! I want an essay!

It was clear that they’d narrowly missed the car in front of them, to which she offered him an angry quack.

Miles had explained lots to her over the past few days.

How he’d lived in this house since returning from his military service, that he’d always wanted ducks to live in the pond. That he’d fallen for her and her family when visiting the park, watching them. That this thing they were sitting in was a car, the same thing that had been used to transport her paddling to Miles pond.

Just now told her, that his driving skills where just fine.

“For a duck that’s sitting in a car for the second time in its life, you seem pretty judgemental.”

Was not angry, he never seemed to be.

Gentle instead he was, careful when he’d run outside the past night, the fox screaming and her honking loudly while pecking it away. Her sibling and parents quacking loudly, distressed, the intruder having gotten too close for comfort.

At first, she’d thought it to be the thing living in Miles house, a dog she guessed, judging by the sounds she heard and the smell clinging to Miles pants. But then the smart eyes of the fox had caught the light of the moon, seemingly gleaming at her through the tall grass.

Immediately she’d moved to attack, waking her family with insistent noises and noticing her brother take a protective stance in front of them. The fox smart enough while trying to fight her, but ultimately underestimating her ability. She’d gotten him good, several times. It had already bled from the eye and snout when the door of the big house opened, light illuminating the scene.

That’s when Miles dog had left house for the first time, sprinting over to them, not attacking her, but the fox. With one move of mighty jaws a jarring crack had sounded through the night, the fox falling limp into the grass. The slobbering and huge beast than turning to her, white with brown spots and a missing front leg, sniffing audibly. Eyes looking at her through shaggy hair, Miles voice stopping the dog’s movements, as they stopped her own.

The gash on her chest Miles had haphazardly taken care off, the decision to accompany him to this “Vet”, whatever this was, only made after the slobbering beast introduced to her as Buccaneer had guarded them all for the remainder of the night.

She quacked again when Miles’ car made another sharp turn, almost loosing her footing in the cardboard-box she was in. At least this time could look around, a huge world zipping past and Miles face looking turning towards her more often than not.

“You’re judging my driving again, I can feel it. It’s the worry, you know. I don’t like those I care about getting hurt.”

Quacked at that, understood this sentiment, somehow glad that she’d learned to understand so much of the language of the humans.

Most where talking sheer nonsense, but there seemed to be a few exceptions. Miles of course, but also this man, looking more like him than most other humans she’d seen, visiting with what she supposed to be his paddling. The little girl still of that age, clumsy and small, that she’d shoo it away from her family. But listening when the unknown man had told her to leave her and her family alone, that they were just settling in.

For such a small human, she’d seemed to have understood that.

“Now,” the car came to a stop, having her waddle a step forward in her box, which Miles freed from the weird black contraption wound around it, “I know this will be an entirely new experience to you, but please try to be nice to the Vet. We need this gash taken care off after all.”

And Olivier was sure that she’d conducted herself well at this completely weird place.

Sat in her box, head tilted proudly, looking around with narrowed eyes. Took in the sight of little dogs and big dogs, or dogs being carried around. Saw a cat or two, extremely nervous, in boxes with bars in the front. This was fine with her, cats almost as dangerous as dogs, more sly to boot. Saw what Miles told her was a hamster, whatever that meant.

The smells though, were truly scaring her.

Infection and blood, waste and fear. Animals died here, bleed here, feared here. And she was one of them she noticed, was bleeding too, even though the gash on her chest was hard to see under the white stuff Miles had put on it.

“Mr. Miles, it’s your turn now!”

She was carried into a smaller room, eying the woman that held the door open for Miles, and in extension for her. Blonde, short hair, small and lithe. Big things called glasses on her nose, some thing humans used to see better.

Miles had explained that to her, when he’d walked about outside with something dark in front of his eyes.

“She fought a fox last night that was trying to get to her paddling. I want to make sure that the wound will heal and that there’s no chance for rabies to spread.”

The woman harrumphed, keeping her distance Olivier noted.

“I can certainly try to look Sir, but as a duck, even when living in a houses pond…well, it still is a wild animal.”

She liked the hesitation, there was no denying it. Too many humans disregarded her kind, fought of them as docile and weak. She made sure to poke those especially hard with her bill.

“Do not worry Ma’am, I will hold her still and Olivier will be completely calm,” turned to her, a look of what she guessed was conspiration in his eyes, “…right?”

Quacking, she let herself be lifted out of the box, the gauze pulled from her chest with featherlight touches. The woman got to work, chatting idly with Miles.

“Olivier is the name of the duck? Well, certainly heard worse before,” the woman turning away for a moment, before turning back around with something silvery in her hand, “Hello Olivier, I am Patricia. And I’m very sorry.”

And just like that, something poked her.

She honked loudly, not happy that her life seemed to be turning into a long line of indignation.

* * *

 

This big dog watched over her paddling well, there was no denying it.

Slept close to the houses door at night, ready to go out whenever a suspicious noise reached their home. During daytime lay in the grass next to the pond, especially her youngest sister Catherine fond of waddling all over him. Their new home truly having proven itself to be a good one, a safe one, her sister Amue having decided to rear ducklings for the second time, food and space plenty.

They’d hatched a few days ago, drawing the eyes of Miles regular guests.

She’d learned that their names were Scar and Mei, good names in her opinion. That the girl was Scar’s duckling, even though from a kind different as him, though nobody ever commented on that. Often the two men sat in the garden, talking with each other, while Mei carefully bounded through the grass, once or twice her siblings allowing themselves to be touched by the little human.

The girl never too loud or forceful though, simply playing with Buccaneer when her family was not in the mood.

“You heard that Bradley vanished? They think he’s been killed, like all those others involved in the war, or maybe kidnapped. Seeing as they’d not found half of those gone missing.”

Miles had only a week or two after they’d moved into his pond carried a table and chairs outside, often sitting in the garden, watching them. Eating his meals, talking with visitors, reading through leaves of what seemed to be white, big grass.

She’d made it a habit to sit close by, to learn what she could from the humans.

“A shame, really. Was a good Mayor in my opinion, was trying to make this city safer. Didn’t they find his car or anything? The paper wrote that it had been nowhere upon the route he would’ve taken given his appointments for the day.”

The one names Scar sighed, though always spoke softly for a human with such a loud voice.

“Well, if it truly is the same person that is responsible for the others, though I’m not even sure it’s only one to be honest with you, I’d say there is little chance of finding the culprit. How many military officials and politicians did they kill by now, thirty, forty?! I mean, it’s only people involved with the war in Ishval, but still, what if the killer moves onto other targets?”

Mei was eyed full of fear by the two men, which she thought to be refreshingly duck-like thinking. The youth, the ducklings were what you endangered your life for and which you worried about after all. Whether they were your own or not.

Miles voice was even when he spoke, though not without a glimmer of worry.

“It’s scary, you know? Mayor Bradley had visited me on the same day he’d vanished, had wanted to see the new home of the city-gardens ducks for himself. He’d gushed about the ducklings and such, how good everything seemed to work out.”

Mei running towards the men then, laughing, Buccaneer in tow. Scar spoke, while getting up.

“A damn shame it is, you’re right. But it’s good to see you so calm friend, so happy again. At first I wasn’t sold on the idea with the ducks, but they really did you some good. You should suggest animal contact at the next veteran reunion, seems to be a viable coping method.”

Miles offered the other his hand, which they then shook. She’d deduced that it was somewhat like when her and her siblings clacked their bills together.

“See you soon Scar,” hugged the little girl close too, which squealed in delight, “and you too Mei. I’ll keep your suggestion in mind Scar, seems to me like you’re onto something there.”

And just a few moments later they were alone again, her huge paddling walking through the garden, either waddling on two legs, running on four, or crouching next to her, a finger curling her head-feather further.

“We build a good home for ourselves, huh?”

She quacked in agreement.

* * *

 

Her sister’s ducklings were fond of sleeping on her, though were doing this so soundly that they did not notice when she got up.

Ruffled her feathers once outside their little blue house, the sky overcast and reducing the moon to a faint glimmer. Found her way well enough though, the steps to the cellar hard to miss, Buccaneer only looking after her once, then putting his head back onto the grass, still warm from the sun of the day.

Which quick and calculated jumps, her legs shorter than she liked, the stairs she soon put behind her, getting down on them easy enough after a bit of practice. Shimmied her body, sleek as it was, through the crack of the cellar-door, waddling towards the place she always waddled. The sounds Miles made at night familiar to her by now, the smell of blood and fear nothing new to her.

Clacked her bill against the panel that looked like stone, it being shoved aside just a moment later.

“There you are! A calm night it is then?”

She quacked, not even a faint scent of predatory animal having reached them the whole day, not to mention that Buccaneer was out, would keep their paddling safe in her absence.

With a swift movement she was lifted onto the table, her usual place. Watched Miles as he used the cleaver to part flesh from flesh, talking idly with her.

“He was the worst, you know? Ordered that the Ishvalans be slaughtered and then, when it reached its peak, declared it inhuman and resigned his post. It was a political move through and through. Despicable.”

Suit and personal belonging Miles had gotten rid of the last time he’d been at the cellar at night, the face of the human in question one she’d recognised from her time at her old home. The word culling running through her head and what Buccaneer had been able to tell her about it.

“When he visited a refugee-camp, after the fighting had died down, he shook my hand, talked to me about my experiences. When he saw me years later in this town, he didn’t even recognise me.”

At first, she’d flinched a little each time the cleaver had made contact with the table, now it was a normal sound to her, almost one of justice.

What Miles had been through, had been worse than any fox. The other humans had not only stolen the weak and vulnerable here and there, to sate their own hunger, but had tried to eradicate them. It was unnatural to her, so hard to understand that she’d stopped trying to.

Yet Miles she understood well enough.

“Thought he’d left his hat here, stopped on his way home. It had been so easy to put it a room further when he’d been here. You understand that I couldn’t resist, right?”

Quacked again, knowing that she’d never let the fox so far into her home at all.

“And I’m sure you pecked those police-dogs in the nose when they came to search here, didn’t you? Foolish officers didn’t even notice. Probably saved us all with that.”

A hand softly following the line of her head, the last of the flesh cleaved, put into the barrel reserved for the pungent smelling fluid alongside his gloves and apron.

“He was the last one Olivier, the very last one on my list. We’ll clean up here and then it will only be the beautiful pond and breakfast and watching the world become a better place. The Vet, Patricia, called, saying she had a pair of ducklings in need of a home. What do you say, do you want to give it a try?”

She cocked her head to the left and then to the right, thinking about it.

The drakes were uninteresting to her, the smell of blood would vanish. There was food and a big paddling and more than enough space. There was Miles. While he carried her up the stairs, turning off the light behind them she quacked in agreement.

Miles smile at that bright, lit up by the moon peeking through the heavy clouds.

**Author's Note:**

> *coughs seriously*
> 
> Hey guys, this story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), whose goal is to improve communication between readers and authors. The goal of it is to make commenting easier for readers and to increase the feedback writers get. As such, I invite you to leave:
> 
> _Short comments_   
>  _Long comments_   
>  _Questions_   
>  _Constructive criticism_   
>  _Reader-reader interaction_   
>  _extra-kudos as <3_
> 
> I cherish all comments, weather they be long or short, even only one word makes me squeal with happiness after all. And if you’re seeing this fic ten years after I published it, don’t worry: Old or new, I’ll still love what you left me to read <3 I answer to all comment btw, though it sometimes takes me a day or two. Should you not want me to answer, just write _whisper_ in front of it.  
>  I thank you for reading this fic of mine through to the end. As I said, I appreciate all comments and kudos and should you want to get into direct contact with me [this is my tumblr](http://illidria.tumblr.com/). There you can get into discussions with me, or even send in wish-fics.  
> Happy reading and thank you <3


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